Page 6 of A Son Hidden from the Sicilian

She was an unfixable problem. A jumbled puzzle that would never have all the pieces. He couldn’t herd her into one of his boxes, even though he desperately wanted to.

Needed to.

Otherwise she existed in his brain like some sort of evil spell. Constantly hovering and poking at him. Two years. No one haunted Lorenzo Parisi fortwo yearsand simply dismissed him with a few harsh words.

No more than he would continue to chase someone who had made it quite clear she wished him to remain history.Hewas in control of himself. In control of everything.

So he didn’t follow her as she walked to the car. He didn’t demand to know where she was staying. He didn’t press his advantage—which he knew he still held, from the way she reacted to him when he’d done little more than touch her with the tip of his finger.

He let her go.

But that didn’t mean he was done with Brianna Andersen.

Or she him.

CHAPTER THREE

BRIANNAHADBEENdead set on leaving early. Going home to safety, half a world away from Lorenzo Parisi.

Then she had gotten back to her hotel room and spoken with her parents. The video call with them and Gio calmed her. It eased those jagged edges inside of her. She had all this to go home to. And all this to succeed for.

So she’d gone to bed knowing that going home now would be a failure. There was still one more art showing and a cocktail party that her manager had insisted could be a place to make lasting partnerships. It was a few more days and surely she wasn’t so cowardly as to run home after one uncomfortable encounter.

She had woken up the next morning determined she would attend all these events as promised. She’d gone about her day certain she could handle it. If Lorenzo continued to appear...

She closed her eyes now as she sat on her hotel bed, procrastinating getting ready for this evening’s party. She needed more time to herself for the memory of her encounter with Lorenzo to fade, but she didn’t have that.

She would have to find a way to be stronger in the face of him. It was will power. It was strength. He wasn’t threatening her. He didn’t pose athreatto anything other than her peace of mind and that washerproblem. Certainly not his.

Besides, if he continued to harass her, she could always call the police. If he was capable of violence against his rival’schild, then surely the police would listen to her and do...something.

Surely.

She shook her head. This was catastrophic thinking. It wouldn’t come to that. Maybe Lorenzo had attended last night’s art show because she would be there, but he lived in Palermo. It was likely a lark. To see if she was still so easily beddable.

And shewasn’t. Maybe she’dfelttemptation, but she had not given in to it. Gold star for her.

If only she could trust herself tomaintainsuch a stance. She closed her eyes, rubbed her temples. She really needed to get ready. She needed to trust herself. She needed to find all that strength she’d honed since Gio had come into her world.

Or perhaps feign illness and make arrangements to go home. Was the potential for a big payout more important than her sanity? She could be back in New Jersey with her son by tomorrow. She’d get a job at the grocery store. At the local school district. She could drive a bus. Or serve sloppy joes to high school kids. She could doanythingother than...

Follow your dreams? Give up everything you’ve worked for because of some man?

“Ugh,” she said. Out loud. Letting the sound echo off the walls. Here she was in Sicily, selling her art, and she couldn’t even enjoy herself because she’d had one short-sighted affair two years ago. That was hardly the kind of woman she wanted to be.

But before she could determine exactlywhatkind of woman she wanted to be in this situation, she heard the telltale noise of a door being opened.

Herdoor.

She got up off the bed, more puzzled than leery at first. Until she saw the man enter her room. As though he could. As though heshould.

For a moment, she only gaped. But that didn’t stop his forward movement, even as he closed the door behind him. He came right into the main area of her hotel room, glaring at her the whole way.

“What are you doing here? How did you get in? I...” She backed away as he got closer. Put the expansive bed between them as if that would somehow save her. “I’ll...call security,” she said, her voice a panicked whisper more than a decisive or threatening shout.

He did not change course. Did not look the least bit concerned. Simply gestured for the phone she now stood close to. “Be my guest.”

She stared at him, mouth open, heart pounding. This was threatening behavior, after all, but he didn’tactlike he was threatening her. He took a seat on the armchair in the corner like he was just going to...wait for her to make the call.

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